


Security

by blanketspace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, actions speak louder than words, first time writing these two and it was from ages ago, it's 600 words don't expect much, what are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:19:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanketspace/pseuds/blanketspace
Summary: Prompto knows Gladio cares, he's just never been good at showing it.





	

Gladio means well, for certain, when the heat is on and the battle rages. The call to corral and demands made in the thick of war – there’s no real room for error and words get spun in the most hateful of ways. A gruff timbre edges and he remembers the shattering confidence that had blasted through him, nearly as much as the blow that had almost made contact with his skull.  There’s no longer a scuffle, no longer monsters that beckon and shriek – the only thing between is nary daemon or blood but sheets and sincerity.  

Or what Prompto might be able to classify as sincerity.  

The blond listens between expressions of affection, listen to how he could have done better, how he should hang back between bouts, how he should just stay safe.  Gladio can’t look after both him and Noctis ; loyalty to the king first, though his heart lay divided ( -- a trial of giants, behemoths, and gigas fortitude ) . It’s that split second of hesitation that’s going to get them both killed.  He has to be better.  

Fingers find purchase in private, fumbling with an open vest as he lays lips along a sturdy collar bone, tracing scars. Each is marked by the map of his mouth slowly, from chest to neck, from neck to jaw, and he lingers alone on the one that graces and gouges against a handsome visage.  Prompto sighs and Gladio still speaks of keeping them safe, keeping them whole, the most amount of adoration that he can offer.  

Callused palms are along the small of his back, dragging his shirt upward. The warmth is welcome and he sighs against the taller’s jaw – this happens every time, eventually those sighs will slip to moans, to cries, and whimpers, delicate keening into tanned musculature ( - _more, more more !_ ). A gentle groan and he arches into the touch. Could they once be together without extenuating circumstances, without him feeling a burden ? Gladio assures him that he isn’t – time and time again ,with words, with wishes, with the little things he echoes into his skin. Fingertips pressed purple into hipbones and lips leaving marks to better ache in the later part of the day.   He'll inspect them in the firelight dimming around camp, when they all settle to sleep, weary from the day. He'll wear them in secretive reminder of a concern pushed flush into freckled flesh. 

It’s in that slow time that Prompto finally finds the mouth that’s speaking – lecturing, he’ll call it.  Lips slant along, a urging wants that fiercely silences the other in a manner that speaks of a boldness he should have had on the field. Teeth and tongue is met with his action, a lazy and simple response that has him mewling.  Hands that had been stationary, keeping him close slide up the length of his back, rising shirt cloth higher and asking – no, _demanding_ a closeness only he can provide.  

In these arms, at least for tonight as his own wrap around a bulwark’s shoulders, can he find a little solace, a little security. The man who berates and hounds only means to keep him close, keep him alive so that he can feel the press of his chest against his in the night – heartbeat to heartbeat, so he can hold something warm and something dear. Small things, little mentions between the moans of their affections, teeth nipping at bottom lips and sigh slipping between.  

Gladio has always meant well, Prompto reminds himself.  Between the barked orders and words that snarl out, between the moments of silence and stern looks, and especially between the grace of fingertips  – another kiss and he just simply reminds himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drabble that I posted on my roleplay blog for Prompto and I just felt like sharing it here for those who haven't read it. First time writing Gladio and Prompto - I really enjoy the possibilities of their dynamic and might explore it further. But yes, I'm aware it's short so if it leaves you wanting more, let me know and I'll gladly make a small series about these two losers. 
> 
> Comment & give me your thoughts ! Xoxo


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